


100 Words of Restlessness

by VeryDoubtfulGuest



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Gratuitous Etymology, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mild Blood, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-10-07 23:19:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10372083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryDoubtfulGuest/pseuds/VeryDoubtfulGuest
Summary: Post Season 3 Hannibal. A tiny glimpse of needy Will and besotted Hannibal. Exactly 100 words. An unsolicited gift for emungere.(Apparently, I had another 100 words in me. Maybe this will be a series? As if I don't have non-fic writing I should be working on...)(And now a third chapter, because Hannibal is even jealous of Will's dreams.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emungere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/gifts).



“You danced with her.”

“Yes.”

“She was a good dancer.”

“Very.”

Will stared into the eyes of his own reflection, ignoring the view beyond the glass. Outside the window, the Caribbean rolled on indifferently. 

“I’m not…” Petty discontent. It made his skin feel too tight, made his hand tighten around the fragile bowl of the wine glass.

Inevitably, it cracked. Inevitably, there was blood. Inevitably, Hannibal was there, swift and silent, bent over the wound, ascertaining it was shallow and small.

He lifted Will’s hand to his lips, sipping the hot sting. “No, you are not her. You are _mine_.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

“More?”

“A-always..!"

Hannibal’s strokes faltered at the word, at the ache inside it, at the ache inside himself to have Will like this. But his Will made a hurt sound, and he of course resumed, driving deeper, harder, burying himself and his greed and his illimitable hunger inside Will’s body.

Will, who was arching, and trembling, sweat painting his curls rococo across his forehead. Will, who was all he could see. Will, who no longer smelled of fear.

Will from the German _wollen_ , from the Old Norse _vilja_ , Will who was coming tight and perfect around Hannibal’s cock.


	3. Chapter 3

The heat was syrup-thick, the air heavy with jasmine and vegetal rot. Will lay outside, napping in the sun by the sea, and Hannibal watched from inside.

Watched as the nightmare formed, leaving its footprints as furrows on Will’s brow, as white knuckles in Will’s fists, as a silent cry parting Will’s lips.

He let himself sip. Savor. Consume with endless greed. Will’s eyes were closed so he could have this slow, sweet draught of suffering. But who caused it? Did another lurk behind those tightly closed eyes?

Unacceptable. Hannibal opened the door and woke him with a kiss.


End file.
